


Alternate Alternate

by Jurodan



Series: Alternate Alternate [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-05 22:49:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13397940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jurodan/pseuds/Jurodan
Summary: There are many realities, as Slav would say. The chances of finding one with someone that looked like Shiro was infinitesimally small. Of course, there are other alternate realities. And some of those also have lookalikes. What would have happened if the legendary defenders had entered an alternate reality with a face familiar to only one of the paladins there?





	1. What are the odds?

“What are our odds?” Ivan did not look away from the controls. He couldn’t afford to. Half of the displays were dimmed or shut off, their associated systems shut down. Several others lingered in or near the red. Except for the fuel of course, that was nearing empty.

Slav was silent for a moment, mulling over the alternate realities and their eventualities, “That depends on whether we are in a reality where we arrive before the Alteans.”

Ivan drew in a breath. Slav was being evasive, that rarely boded well. That meant long odds against them, and odds were stacked against them to begin with. “If we aren’t?”

Slav didn’t miss a beat, “Then there are very few realities where we succeed.”

Ivan nodded. The lack of a follow up gave him all the confirmation he needed as to their ‘status’ even in the successful mission. “And if we are?”  
Slav reached over and made a small adjustment to his console, “Then there are still very few realities where we succeed.”

Naturally.

Ivan flicked one of the engine intake monitors when it dimmed, thankfully bringing it back to where it had been. The very last thing they needed was to stop and repair their vessel en route, assuming they even could. “I’m picking up the Altean vessel.” He waited with baited breath as the scanner checked the vessel. The smallest of smirks came over his lips, “It’s alone.”

“For now.” Slav offered.

 

* * *

 

Ivan adjusted the satchel on his shoulder, “That one is placed.” He glanced up to see Slav’s wrist begin to glow. That did not bode well. “Who is it?” He asked as Slav brought up the feed from their ship. His eyes widened at the design of the craft, it was shaped almost like a person? “Maybe I should be asking what that is instead…” Slav was still silent, analyzing the image in front of him, which only set Ivan further on edge.

Slav ignored him for a moment longer, eyes scanning every pixel of the image before shutting it down. “I do not know.”

Ivan blinked, “What?”

“I said I do not know.” Slav’s cast a quick glance at him betraying his irritation, but his voice remained steady, “I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s not something I’ve considered possible.”

That sent a chill running down Ivan’s spine. Slav could conceive of so many different realities that it bordered on the impossible. For him not to expect something… it might not be unprecedented, but Ivan hadn’t experienced it.

“We are changing the mission.” Slav said bluntly, turning before Ivan could even react. He was about to voice his protest when Slav raised a hand preemptively, “We aren’t going to stop, we still cannot let the Alteans get this comet, but we need to see who is manning that vessel. It is... important.”

Ivan frowned, “What about the bombs? They aren’t armed yet, we could put them on a proximity trigger.”

Slav weighed realities beyond counting in a matter of seconds, “Leave them. They never would have been able to destroy the comet in any reality; our best hope was to position the explosives in a manner as to push the comet into the space fissure. Removing them will leave us in a disadvantageous position in seventy three point eight nine of realities, setting them on proximity trigger leads to complete disaster in forty two point zero one and in a disadvantageous position in an additional thirty three point six six.”

Slav glanced over his shoulder, “Keep them on the remote trigger.” Ivan nodded, moving the trigger to his left side when Slav bristled, “Not that pocket!” Ivan tensed for a second, and then sighed, placing it on his right as he followed the alien to their most likely intercept point.

 

* * *

 

“Hello?” The word echoed through the vessel, disturbing the stillness of the dead ship. "Is anyone here?" Ivan frowned; there was a certain refinement to the voice, the intonation, the accent. That didn’t bode well.

“They’re in armor.” Ivan spoke sotto voce into his communicator, “It’s Altean, And that voice…” He trailed off, studying the figures as they floated through the hall. “They look unarmed.” At least it would make them easier pickings when the fight came. One of them flashed a light at the duct he was looking through and he hastily ducked down, “Slav?”

The alien was furiously making calculations on his wrist computer. "We follow them. There is a ninety eight point zero three four chance they are heading to the bridge."

“If they’re here that means their ship doesn’t have its full compliment. We should try to sneak in and either disable it or capture it.”

"Negative." Slav cut him off sharply, "Follow them. We will find out our probabilities there."

“If we can figure out how to pilot-”

“I said no.” Slav said, ending the debate, “There is more going on here than what we are seeing.”

Ivan glowering behind his helmet, then quietly resigned himself to the order. “Fine. The bridge, lead the way.”

 

* * *

 

“Brace yourself.” Ivan hissed as he braced himself, gravity reasserting itself seconds later.

“Thanks for the warning.” He groused, but Slav paid him no heed, seamlessly and silently advancing on all ten limbs. Ivan inched after him, expecting to make a noise at any second and give them away.

A panicked yelp and indistinct words echoed into the air vent. Slav turned back and looked at Ivan, “We will go through the next juncture. Hurry.”  
Ivan saved some truly vile epithets as he crawled as quietly as he could after his partner, “What are we doing when we get there?”

“I see an eighty three point nine chance that we will be able to catch them off guard.” Slav stopped in front of a panel in the floor, “When I hack the release we will dive through and confront them. I will question them, but keep your gun ready in case this is one of the forty two percent of realities where they are aggressive.” Ivan finally reached him and let out a breath, scarcely believing he’d been able to get there without revealing themselves. There were more muffled voices, no, a single voice now. He swore he could detect the refined tones of Altean as Slav went to work on the controls. There was a shout and an explosion, and then Slav tensed as the control mechanism flashed red.

Ivan flinched. He sensed that they had just missed their opportunity to get the drop on whoever was down there, but Slav started again. He could hear them talking, but the conversation had died down. “Slav, what are you doing? They aren’t going to be distracted-“At that moment the release turned green and the plate fell free from the ceiling. Ivan hissed, and dove after Slav.

He had barely landed when the explorers began to react. One of them was shouting a warning and running forward, a gun forming in his hand from thin air. Ivan didn’t even get a chance to recover from the astonishment of that before the blue clad figure began firing at them. Slav danced, jumping over the ill placed shots that hit the floor in front of him and Ivan managed to grimace at the shooter’s lack of discipline. When he recovered that gun he’d find good use for it.

A second later Slav was tackled, the figure in mustard yellow having launched himself at the alien with his jetpack. Ivan tensed, turning to target the figure in blue when the front half of the barrel slid off, a sword held by the figure in red cleaving through it before he could get his shot off. How could it possibly- his question was cut short as the figure in red drove his elbow into Ivan’s face mask, cracking it, then following it up with a slice across Ivan’s chest. Ivan stumbled back a step, caught himself and used the momentum, pivoting and kicking the figure in red in the back shoulder, sending him sprawling.

He had a second to breathe before another pair of ill aimed shots hit the floor well ahead of him. Ivan glowered, hurling his ruined rifle at the amateur shot with the fancy gun. It caught the figure in blue straight in the faceplate, snapping his head back and throwing off his advance. Ivan charged, leaping into the air, his laser blade forming, lining the blade up to piece the figure through the heart before he could recover.

He was descending when he heard the click and caught the sight of something green coming at him from the corner of his eye. His reaction betrayed him, he turned, catching sight of the green arrow just before it slammed into his faceplate, ripping off a chunk of it and ruining his trajectory. He spun in air, and managed, somehow, to recover his balance, his blade biting into the floor as he skidded to a halt. He took a breath, steadying himself, trying to prepare himself from the next onslaught when his helmet shattered and fell away entirely.

For an instant the battle stopped. Slav took advantage, slamming his tail into the yellow clad figure and then cartwheeling back to Ivan’s side. The man landed with a thud and joined the others staring him, all of them seemingly surprised to see him, but the figure in green… Ivan blinked, eyes widening as he took in their features. No… no there was no way… it… it wasn’t possible. The figure took a tentative step towards him, their weapon slipping from their hand and clattering against the deck plate. Almost uncertainly they raised a hand, as if to reach out and touch him from across the room.

“Matt?”


	2. Divergence Points

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt, it's clearly him, it HAS to be him. So why is he denying who he is? Can she really be wrong? But she can't be, why else would he be so shocked to see her?

For a moment Pidge couldn’t believe her eyes. It was Matt. It was so clearly him. He had built up a lot of muscles sure, and he had a scar on his left cheek, but his face was otherwise the same, his eyes were the same, even his hair was the same. And he recognized her. She could see it in his eyes; he couldn’t believe she was here; the look of determination that had dominated his face was fading into shock. She could almost hear the questions going through his head. “Matt?” He blinked, and Pidge took a giddy breath and stepped forward, “Matt, how did you get here?”  


The look of confusion not only remained, it solidified. He looked more puzzled, more confused by the question than the fact she was standing in front of him. “Matt?” She asked again, and watched as the puzzlement as his face fell into a blank mask.  


For a moment, just a moment, Ivan had thought it was actually her. He had blinked, taken by her visage. She looked so much like Pari, no, that wasn’t fair, she looked exactly like Pari. He was about to speak when she preempted him. And just like that the illusion had been torn away from him. Hearing her voice was a punch to the gut, it was so different from Pari’s. She had a foreign accent, from where he had no clue; and the name she was calling him, either she had confused him for someone else, or worse perhaps, was projecting someone onto him like he had almost done to her.  


He bit back bitter tears and forced himself to look away. It was not her. He had to remember that. It was not her. Whoever she was, she was not his sister. He suppressed the tremor that threatened to wrack his body. He had to focus, he had a mission. The figure in pink was obviously an Altean, facial markings aside there was no way to interact with Altean technology without one of them around. They were the enemy. He forced himself to dwell on that, to try and kill the feeling that threatened to overwhelm him, repeating it over and over and over again. He forced himself to look back at them… at her.  


And yet he couldn’t help but feel his heart tighten as he looked at her. She was watching him with growing concern, waiting for a response. He had no choice but to disappoint her, though the concept of bringing pain to that face tore at him. In the end himself incapable of the feat and closed his eyes as he spoke, “No.”  


“What?” The girl looked confused, “Matt-“  


“That is not my name.”  


Pidge felt the words strike her. She blinked, unable to process them. They couldn’t be true. She had never been surer of anything in her life. “Matt.” Her jaw continued to move, even though words failed her. Had he hit his head? Had he gotten a concussion when she struck him? He was speaking so clearly though. But he sounded different, he had an accent, it was thick on every word. She felt her eyes begin to burn, her voice quavered as she spoke, “Come on, stop playing around.”  


He seemed drained by her reaction, his shoulders sagging, his head drooping, “I know it is hard. It is hard for everyone now. As painful as it is, give up. Move on.” He shook his head, “This… Matt, you know you won’t find him.”  


Silences descended. The girl looked positively stricken, shaken by the words; her companion on the floor was almost as shocked. The figures in red, blue were furious, and the figure in pink looked appalled, like she had any right to be. “What the heck, man?” The amateur in blue swept his arm in front of his chest peremptorily, “She mistakes you for her brother and you tell her to stop looking?”  


The swordsman’s eyes narrowed, “How could you say that sort of thing to her?”  


Ivan sneered and picked up the rifle in front of him, “Like you haven’t already sold your souls working with Alteans? Or do you really believe everything she’s been telling you?”  


The Altean among them blinked, “What?”  


Slav hissed, “Ivan, we have to move, another Altean ship just arrived.”  


The figure in pink drew a sharp breath, “Wait, more Alteans?”  


Ivan was tempted to roll his eyes, but focused, backing up over Slav so the alien could launch him back up into the vent. “If I were you, I’d run.” Slav warned them from below as Ivan tossed his gun and caught the edge, pulling himself inside. He turned, offering a hand down and pulled Slav up as the alien jumped. “This way.” The alien murmured, and began racing down one of the vents.

~***~

Lance stared at the ceiling, “What the heck just happened?”  


Allura was mystified, “Did he say we were being boarded by Alteans?”  


“I’m going after them.” The others turned to look at Pidge, but she was already airborne, her jetpack carrying her to the hole the intruders had exited through.  


“Pidge wait!” She could hear Keith shouting after her, but nothing was going to stop her. She clambered into the vent, listening as the clanging echoed through the door they had first come through. She scrambled down the duct away from the noise, hoping she was going in the right direction. She hated abandoning them, a part of her was screaming to go back, but Matt was so close! She bit back tears, they would understand. They would forgive her for this, for abandoning them; they had to, didn’t they?

~***~

Keith stared at the ceiling for a second longer. Pidge wasn’t coming back down. His shoulders slumped as more sound echoed through the door. He looked back, fixing his expression and raising his sword, “Get ready.”  


The door opened and five sentries entered the room, weapons drawn, drawing a bead on them. Keith glanced between them. They were different, sleeker, more streamlined than Galra drones, and they were more… ornate? Bands of gold lined their features; they certainly looked a lot fancier than the regular models. Behind them, still framed by the door were a large alien who he didn’t recognize… and an Altean.  


Another figure emerged from behind them, her facial markings and ears also marking her as an Altean in Keith’s eyes. There was a surety there, a confidence of command, she wasn’t threatened at all despite the fact that Lance was aiming at her, “Put down your weapons.”  


Behind him Allura gasped, “Alteans.”  


“It can’t be…” The figure lost their confidence in an instant, reversed almost as quickly as Pidge and her not-brother’s elation and anger had. The figure knelt before them, “Empress.”  


Keith watched as the machines, then the other Altean and then the alien in the back knelt before her. Hunk spoke for all of them at that instant, “Uh… I’m confused. What is going on?”

~***~

Slav rose to his feet as he entered a juncture, “We should be safe here-” However Slav was going to finish was lost as Ivan grasped one of his arms, twisted it behind the alien’s back and slammed him into the wall. “Ah…” Slav grimaced, “So this is one of the universes where this happens…”  


Ivan hissed, squeezing Slav’s wrist, “You are to explain what happened back there.”  


“My calculations-”  


“Fuck your calculations.” Ivan hissed, his grip tightening, “You either saw it coming and didn’t tell me or you didn’t and your calculations aren’t worth a damn. Which is it Slav?”  


Slav winced, letting out a tight breath, “I didn’t. Not clearly enough to expect her.” That earned him the smallest of reprieves as Ivan relaxed his grip just the slightest bit, “All I knew was that their ship changed our odds dramatically.”  


“How?”  


“Until that ship arrived we had a point zero zero one two percent chance of success. When that vessel arrived through the rift our odds shifted. If we could get them to help us it is possible that we succeed fifteen point nine seven percent of the time.” Slav let out a breath, “And if we can convince the girl to help us our odds improve even further.”  


“Who is she Slav?”  


“I don’t know.”  


Ivan growled, “I don’t like that answer Slav.”  


“I know you don’t.” Slav grimaced, as his partner leaned into him further, “Maybe you should ask her?”  


Ivan released him with a sigh and turned around. Like a ghost, there she was again; crouched in the crawlspace they had entered through a scant few seconds before, “Of course.” He looked down at Slav, “That’s why we stopped.”  


Pidge gingerly entered the juncture, watching as Slav slid to the floor, cradling his arm, “I-is he going to be okay?”  


“Don’t worry about him right now.” Ivan stared at her, finding his anger fading by the second as he looked at her face, “Who-” He caught a quaver in his voice and struggled to quash it, “Who are you?”  


“My name is Katie Holt, you’ve always called me Pidge.” She licked her lips, watching him flinch at the name, “I’m your sister.”  


He bit back a rebuke. Instead he let out a breath, “My name is Ivan Zholdin. I… had… a sister whose name was Katia. I… I called her Pari.” He licked his lips, watching her watch him with concern, “How much do you… remember? About the Altean you were with?”  


“Allura?” She blinked, “What about her?”  


“How much do you remember about… before you met her?”  


Pidge blinked, “Well… everything. I mean, I only met her a year ago.”  


Ivan’s eyes narrowed, “What do you know… about your brother?”  


Pidge twitched at the detached way he spoke the word, but she tried to focus, “My brother went missing during his mission to Kerberos. Aliens called the Galra captured him, along with our father and Shiro.”  


“Kerberos. You… you think we went missing during the mission to Kerberos?” He frowned, “And you say the Galra captured us? And who is Shiro? What position was he?”  


“Shiro? He was the pilot.”  


“Sven. His name was Sven.” Ivan bowed his head in thought, “You’ve got a lot of the details, but they’re garbled, they don’t make any sense.”  


Pidge looked at him with unease, “What do you mean?”  


“We weren’t captured by anyone on Kerberos. The mission to Kerberos was the only reason we survived. We were stuck there when the Alteans conquered Earth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: DUN DUN DUN. Dramatic effect aside, I will explain more about my opinions of the clearly fascist Alteans in the alternate universe. Frankly, they strike me as significantly worse and significantly more dangerous than the Galra that the paladins of Voltron have to fight.

**Author's Note:**

> So, some general ground rules for my OC: He will never, *ever* pilot one of the lions. Period. He will also *not* defeat Zarkon or Haggar. Period. He will *not* romance Allura (or Pidge for that matter *shudder*). I have no intentions for pairings, involving him or the cannon crew, though if it comes to me while writing I'll throw it in and adjust the tags. 
> 
> I will state now that he IS talented, there is a reason he is a Gun of Gamara. He is (currently) a better shot than Lance and Hunk (the latter not really a fair comparison because they use different skill sets).
> 
> I will be exploring, or at least extrapolating, the similarities and differences between the Alteans from both universes, based on my own observances and theories.


End file.
